


there’s a light that you give me when I’m in shadow

by gabgee



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mid-Canon, Restless Newt, sad Thomas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 19:56:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14027613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabgee/pseuds/gabgee
Summary: Neither one of them needed to explain what was hurting them, for the other already knew. The pain they harboured was shared. The thought was comforting to Newt; he hoped Thomas understood this too.(or: Newt struggles to get to sleep on the first night out of the Maze. As it turns out, he's not the only one.)





	there’s a light that you give me when I’m in shadow

Newt was wide awake.

How could he not be? They’d watched several of their friends die mere hours ago and had been shoved into this place, unceremoniously, with no explanation whatsoever. Sure, the feast had been pretty exciting at the time, but now his stomach cramped from eating too much and he tried not to long for the familiarity of the glade. These people had no right to tell them to be patient and enjoy themselves; what were they expected to do? Have a slumber party? Their friends were dead. Though he didn’t hold it personally against their saviours, unlike Thomas. After all, they had eaten, showered and settled down in real beds. There was much to be grateful for. Yet he still lay there, envying the likes of Frypan who had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Newt was exhausted too, but he wouldn’t allow himself to drift off even if he wanted to. He knew there’d be nightmares.

Newt thought back over everything that had happened since they’d been shown to the room. He thought of the hot food they’d demolished in a matter of minutes and the warm showers they’d spent far too long enjoying. He even managed a small smile to himself, thinking back to how they’d all stood in front of the mirrors afterward, staring at their own reflections for the first time in years. The first time they could remember. Newt had hit Minho playfully when the cocky bastard had asked him how he’d managed to keep his hands to himself for so long.

 

He was thinking back on all of this when he heard it.

A small sniff, at first. Nothing to be concerned about. But as the minutes passed the sounds became more frequent, louder and undeniably recognisable as someone crying. Someone directly below him.

“Tommy?” Newt whispered, propping himself up on an elbow and leaning over the side slightly. The sound stopped abruptly.

“Yeah?” Thomas’ voice sounded muffled. Newt imagined he had pressed his face against the pillow in order to stop himself crying so quickly. The thought of it hurt his heart.

“Uh…” Newt wasn’t sure what to say next. He’d called out to Thomas automatically when he’d realised it was him crying, not thinking of the consequences. “You okay?” Good one.

“Yeah, ‘m’fine.” Newt considered pretending to believe him, rolling back over and actually trying to go to sleep, but the idea of it made his chest feel heavy. The thought of his friend lying down there, scared and sad and lonely, was almost enough to make him cry, too.

“Obviously bloody not,” Newt whispered back after a few moments of hesitation. “Get up here.”

He heard Thomas shuffling around for a second before he popped into view. It was dark in the dorm, but enough light trickled in for him to be able to make out Thomas’s silhouette emerging from the bottom bunk. Newt sat up hurriedly, staying under the quilt at the top end of his bunk and crossing his legs. Thomas had one hand hesitantly on the ladder that connected their beds as he looked up at Newt.

“Any time today,” Newt mumbled. That was all the confirmation Thomas needed, and before Newt could make any other sarcastic comments, the two boys were sat face to face on the top bunk.

Thomas’ face was illuminated by the faint light that streamed in gently from the gap under the door at the far end of the room. Newt observed him and felt his stomach twist at the heartbreaking sight; Thomas’ face was streaked with tears, both fresh and dried, and the expression in his eyes was pure grief. They met each other’s gaze only briefly before Thomas looked down in embarrassment, pulling his knees up to his chest and looking more vulnerable than Newt had ever seen him.

“Yeah, I know,” Thomas whispered. “I’m pathetic.”

Newt forced his features to become more neutral. He knew he was looking at Thomas as if he was a lost puppy. “You said it, not me.”

They were both laughing, then, a little awkwardly and as quietly as they could. Newt tried to ignore the slight pull at his heartstrings he felt at the sight of Thomas’ smile, but it was difficult. Looking at him made his chest swell and his cheeks burn. But he’d hidden that up until now, what difference would another night make?

“What is it?” Newt asked gently. “I mean, there’s probably about a million things that could be wrong right now, but…” Thomas finally met Newt’s eyes and searched them. Newt presumed he was looking for any hint of judgement or teasing from him and purposefully looked back as sincerely and seriously as he could. He hoped it was coming across that way, anyway, and not creeping Thomas out even more. Even more urgently, he prayed that the darkness was dense enough to hide the blush on his cheeks.

“I can’t believe… all of them, of course… but Chuck,” Thomas eventually stuttered. “He died to save me.”

“He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way, Tommy.”

“I know, but that’s the worst part.”

“I know.”

It was quiet between them for a few minutes, the only sounds being Minho’s snoring and occasional shuffling from the beds around them. Newt picked at the edge of his sheets, not wanting to meet Thomas’ watery eyes in case he spotted the tears behind his own.

“Why are you still awake?” Thomas offered the silence. Newt shrugged.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Couldn’t, or didn’t want to?”

“What is this, twenty bloody questions?” Newt scoffed, aiming a smirk at Thomas to make sure he knew he wasn’t actually annoyed. Thomas smiled softly back.

“Fine. Thought you’d invited me up here for a heart to heart, but whatever,” Thomas joked. 

“You want a bedtime story, too, shank?” He knew the banter between them was a coping mechanism, but at this point Newt couldn’t bring himself to care. Neither one of them needed to explain what was hurting them, for the other already knew. The pain they harboured was shared. The thought was comforting to Newt; he hoped Thomas understood this too.

As their stifled giggles came to an end, Newt noticed Thomas shiver slightly as he wrapped his arms around himself. The question escaped from his lips before he could even consider reigning it in.

“You wanna get under?” The moment the last syllable dissolved into the air Newt hated himself. At all other times, he was able to control his tongue. Think before he spoke. He’d have been in trouble more than once in the Glade if he hadn’t. But something about sitting this close to an upset Thomas in the middle of the night allowed his mouth to overtake his brain for once. How could he be so stupid? Of course Thomas didn’t want to -

“Yeah, okay.”

He stared at Thomas, whose expression was unreadable. Newt, however, was painfully aware he looked like a deer in headlights. Nonetheless, he shuffled over and peeled back the covers of his bed for Thomas to get under. Which he did. Their arms knocked against each other as they tried to find a comfortable position in which they could sit side by side in the narrow bunk and Newt couldn’t help but shiver at the contact. He tried to tell himself it was simply the coldness of Thomas’ skin contrasting with his own warmth that caused it, but he was well aware that he was lying to himself.

In the end, Newt impatiently lay down on his side and gestured to Thomas to do the same. The creaking bed and rustling sheets were making him paranoid their friends would wake up and get the wrong idea; something he rather urgently didn’t want to happen. He’d already had enough of Minho’s teasing thanks to an unfortunate incident where he caught Newt redhanded, staring at Thomas in a definitely-not-platonic way. Newt knew that if Minho knew the extent of his feelings, he’d back off, but he hadn’t plucked up the courage yet to tell his friend what was really going on inside his head.

Newt couldn’t quite believe Thomas had gone along with all this. He was even mildly surprised when he hadn’t ignored his whispers into the darkness in the first place. And now here they were: in Newt’s bed, face to face, inches away from each other. Newt struggled to steady his breathing as they lay there staring at each other and tried very hard to focus on counting the moles that were scattered across Thomas’ cheek and neck. Not that this helped much.

“Well, this is bloody cosy,” Newt whispered after a few minutes of painful silence. He wondered whether Thomas could hear his heart pounding. Thomas hummed in response, smirking. 

“Thought it’d take a night on Gally’s brew to get me into your bed,” Thomas murmured back. Newt raised his eyebrows in mock offense.

“Is that so? Bit overconfident, ain’t ya, Tommy?” 

Thomas hummed again. Newt wished he’d wipe that bloody smirk off of that face. That, the flirting and their close proximity was making it harder and harder for him to keep his thoughts (and hands) to himself. 

Thomas chuckled. Newt could’ve sworn Thomas’ eyes drifted down to his lips briefly. It was too dark to know for sure, but even the idea of it was enough for Newt’s cheeks and chest to blush even darker than they were already. He wished Thomas would stop staring at him, stop smiling at him, stop making him laugh. And, simultaneously, he wished that Thomas would continue doing those things until the sun rose and preferably forevermore after that.

“Newt?” Thomas whispered huskily. Newt barely suppressed a tremble at the sound.

“Yeah, Tommy?”

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Me neither.”

“Can I stay here?” Thomas looked nervous. It made Newt smile uncontrollably.

“Sure.”

“Thanks, man.” And just like that all the hope Newt had allowed himself to build up over the last half an hour came crashing down again. Man. Mate. Dude. Shank. Buddy. Another word to add to the list of things he didn’t mind being called by anyone except Thomas, for it served as another jolting reminder that he would only ever see him as a friend.

Or at least that was what Newt thought until he felt Thomas’ cold fingertips suddenly tracing up and down his arm.

The shock of it made him freeze. Not that he’d been moving much before, but his eyes had been flickering anywhere but Thomas’ face and his breathing had finally been even, normal. Now, he couldn’t help but return the intensity of Thomas’ gaze on him and he was fully aware of his own chest rising and falling at an oddly fast pace. 

The way Thomas was smiling at him gave him the tiniest boost of confidence Newt needed. He reached forward and placed his hand on the back of Thomas’ neck, lacing his fingers between the soft dark hairs that lay there. He heard Thomas’ draw in a sharp breath at this, and the hand on Newt’s arm moved to instead rest lightly on his waist. 

The two boys leaned in at the same time and met each other’s lips in the middle.

Newt had always imagined (he thought about it a lot, okay) his and Thomas’ first kiss to be rushed and messy and kind of awkward. But this was nothing of the sort. Their lips moved together slowly but firmly, tongues swiping against lips tentatively every now and then. Newt sighed into Thomas’ mouth every time this happened and Thomas tightened his grip on Newt’s waist. Then Newt plucked up the courage to bite down gently on Thomas’ bottom lip; he smiled against Thomas’ mouth as the boy moved impossibly closer and pressed himself against him. They continued in this incredibly intimate position until Newt pulled at Thomas’ hair a little harder than he had before and Thomas actually moaned.

“Tommy!” Newt whisper-shouted, out of breath, still not even an inch away from the other boy. “Shut up!”

“I… I can’t if you keep doing… that!” Thomas replied.

“And by “that”, you mean?”

Thomas hesitated. “Everything. Oh God, we need to stop.”

“What, why?” Newt practically whimpered.

“Because…” Thomas moved back only a tiny bit, but the loss felt overwhelming to Newt. However, a reassuring squeeze from Thomas calmed him down a little bit. “If we, uh, carry on… I don’t want things to get out of hand?”

Thomas was looking at Newt imploringly, as if begging him to catch his drift and agree with him. When Newt finally caught on after a few moments, he forced himself not to laugh.

“Oh! Oh. I get ya, Tommy. Sorry, didn’t realise I was so irresistible that you can’t control yourself after one kiss.”

At this, Thomas, pulled his hand away from Newt’s waist and swatted at his shoulder with it before covering his own face in embarrassment. Newt let himself laugh then, trying to pull Thomas’ hands away and ignoring his quiet groans of humiliation.

“I’m kiddin’, I’m kiddin’. You’re right,” Newt whispered, finally coaxing Thomas’ arm down and forcefully replacing it around himself. Newt’s own hand remained at Thomas’ jaw, his thumb gently caressing his freckled cheeks. They lay like this for hour-long minutes, the ghosts of smiles upon their faces.

“We should try and get some sleep,” Thomas mumbled finally.

“Yeah,” Newt agreed. He pressed a lingering kiss against Thomas’ lips before rolling onto his back and pulling Thomas with him so that he would lay on his chest. Newt was sure Thomas could feel his heart pounding in this position, but somewhere through the course of the night, he stopped caring.

 

“Well, well, well,” Minho’s voice sounded like a cannon going off in the quiet of the morning. “What on Earth do we have here?”

Newt’s eyes fluttered open and he almost jumped upright at the sight of Minho staring down at him from the end of his bed. He stopped himself just in time, the weight of Thomas’ head on his chest pressing him down and reminding him that he wasn’t alone.

“Slim it, Minho,” Newt mumbled groggily. The sound of his voice seemed to wake Thomas, who slowly pushed off of Newt’s chest and put his weight on one hand, rubbing his eyes sleepily with the other. Newt thought it was possibly the cutest sight he’d ever seen; apparently, his expression gave away these thoughts.

“Jesus,” Minho scoffed, though one look at his face told Newt that he was secretly very pleased by this development. “Listen, if you two shanks start playing footsie and skipping around holding hands, I may have to vomit. Okay?”

“No need to get jealous, Min,” Thomas smirked at his friend. “You’re still my favourite.”

Minho rolled his eyes and stalked off towards the few other boys that were already up. Thomas flopped back down next to Newt and the boys resumed their positions from last night: on their sides, facing each other.

“Don’t worry, I lied,” Thomas murmured. “You’re definitely my favourite.”

Newt rolled his eyes but was fairly sure that the grin that crept onto his face was wider than any he’d ever possessed. He had been so terrified that he would wake up to Thomas breaking the news to him that this was not to become a regular thing - or worse, to an empty bed. Not worrying about what the others would think or say, he wrapped his arms back around Tommy, and kissed him again like there was no one else in the room.

**Author's Note:**

> hellooooo i am back!!! and i made a twitter come chat @/curednewts :-)
> 
> thank you for all the love on previous fics, please let me know what you think of this! it's a lil different from my others and possibly out of character but o well ENJOY
> 
> ps title is from everglow by coldplay <333


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